


Linked

by ScarletRaven1001



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Vegebul - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRaven1001/pseuds/ScarletRaven1001
Summary: The whole “Soulmate” thing was a sham, as far as Bulma was concerned. So, when she finds that her own Soulmate Mark had reacted to a handsome jerk that she ran into on the street, she is even more determined to prove that not even the gods can make her fall for someone, unless it was on *her* terms.A Vegebul *Soulmate Tattoo* AU.





	1. Inked

**Author's Note:**

> I have always loved Soulmate AUs, so I finally decided to try my hand at it! This is my first attempt at a comedic multi-chapter, and it will not be very long.
> 
> I hope you like it! And as always, comments will be highly appreciated!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my gift for Supersaiyanerd! Advanced happy birthday!

The last week of September greeted Bulma with a powerful gust of freezing wind, right to her face.

Her phone – and by extension, her alarm – had died sometime during the night, and so she had woken half an hour later than usual.

She was running late, and with no time to primp, her curly blue hair fluffed annoyingly on her head. She angrily pushed the strands back, barely sparing a glance at the tiny mark that rested on her right inner wrist.

The deceptively nondescript mark, was Bulma’s Soulmate Mark.

It was a straight line that was barely a centimeter long, which was there to lead her to the one person who would make her life complete: her one perfect match, destined to love her for eternity.

Her Soulmate…

Pfft. Yeah, right.

She was thirty years old, and the mark had stayed exactly the same as it had always been, a frustrating red line of ink that clashed wildly with her blue eyes and hair.

There were some successful Soulmates, and one such pair were her own parents, who had truly fallen in love beyond being just predestined mates.

Tragically enough, she knew of quite a few people who had married their Soulmates, and ended up miserable.

The Soulmate Mark was a guide, and often, not a very good one. It was ultimately a problem, since some Soulmates had perfectly compatible souls, but not hearts.

It had also been the thing that prevented her from finding true romance, as the one man she had once loved, Yamcha, had refused to stay with her on account of their marks not responding to each other’s.

The tiny mark was supposed to grow, become more distinct and detailed, once one met their true Soulmate. And though Bulma had repeatedly willed it to grow even by a tiny bit, no amount of kisses from Yamcha had made it budge.

It was due to these distracted thoughts and her haste to get to work on time that Bulma had failed to watch where she was going, and as she walked with her head in the clouds, she managed to somehow walk into the middle of the street, right in the middle of moving traffic.

The loud blare of a car horn woke her from her trance, and she shrieked as she watched the car moving towards her, too close, too fast, for her to move out of the way.

“Eeeeeeeek!” she screamed, hands uselessly shielding her face from watching her certain doom, her heart pounding mercilessly against her ribs while her mind spun through a thousand scenarios of how she had wanted her life to go and how she failed to make it right, all in the space of half a second.

A heavy collision knocked the wind out of her, and she expected her body to fall brokenly against the pavement…

And was inordinately stunned when she found herself jostled, but relatively unscathed, lying on the sidewalk with a thick, solid human body above her own.

“Oh kami,” she whispered in residual fright.

She watched the man groan above her, his shock of dark hair covering his face as he tried to brace himself back up with his thick arms.

He was shaking, clearly affected by the near-miss, and a brilliant smile lifted her lips as she finally realized what had just happened…

This man had pushed her out of the way of the oncoming car. The oncoming car that would have surely killed her…

“You saved me…” she said in wonder, looking dazedly at the thick torso clothed in a light blue button-down shirt. “Oh kami… I’m alive because of you! Thank y-”

“Pay more attention to your surroundings, you idiotic woman!” he barked, cutting her off.

Bulma drew back, offended.

“Well, I’m sorry, mister! Next time, please feel free not to save my life!”

“Indeed I will not,” he hissed, finally lifting his head.

Bulma was stunned into silence by the darkest eyes she had ever seen, on a beautifully masculine face framed by a severe widow’s peak.

She gaped like a fish as he stood, dusting himself off, before he turned to walk away, all without sparing her a second glance.

She too stood, gathering as much of her dignity as she could while the small crowd that had gathered began to disperse.

“You are an asshole, but thanks still! For saving my life!” she yelled at his back, pulling at her rumpled red dress, noting that he did glance infinitesimally at her before he turned the corner to disappear from her sight.

With a sigh, Bulma began walking again, in the opposite direction of her handsome asshole savior. She headed into the small academic publishing house that she worked at, only a block away by then.

She placed her right thumb onto the thumb scan machine to time in, noting the stiffness of her wrist.

“Huh. Must have sprained it when I fell,” she mused as she sat on her desk, shifting her handbag onto her other hand.

She dug around her cabinet for the small tube of liniment that she kept in there for her minor aches – she still refused to think that it was because she was  _aging –_ taking a small amount so she can rub it onto her painful arm.

The liniment and her bag fell out of her hands, quickly followed by her jaw, as she stared at her pained wrist.

For on it, her tiny red Soulmate Mark had somehow grown twice as long.

8-8-8-8-8

“Now Bulma… I understand that almost getting hit by a car is quite traumatic, but shrieking like a banshee in the middle of the office is not very professional.”

Bulma sighed as she sat in the office of her Manager, Mr. Piccolo.

“I’m really sorry-”

“I expect no more extreme behavior from you today, do I make myself clear?” he asked, brows furrowed, lips pursed in frustration.

She sighed again, just a tiny bit louder. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright. Go back to your desk and finalize the senior high Physics journal,” he instructed.

Bulma got up, walking forlornly to her desk, glancing at poor old Uranai, who had nearly had a heart attack when she let out her earlier, spirit-piercing scream.

Well, who wouldn’t scream, upon discovering that their Soulmate Mark had evolved?

She sighed, yet again, as she sat down, meeting the inquisitive eyes of her office bestie, Chichi.

The dark-haired woman raised a brow, before she leaned over towards Bulma.

“Bulma-chan,” she began, “What the hell actually happened earlier?”

Bulma groaned.

She was, frankly, devastated that her mark had changed. She didn’t really  _want_ a Soulmate, but apparently, she had one.

And seeing as Bulma had only had one interaction with a new person that day, she knew exactly who the gods – who were probably giggling, beside themselves with glee at their  _brilliance,_ those  _bastards_ – had decided was her Soulmate.

Chichi, on the other hand, would likely be delighted by the news, because she was one of the few people Bulma knew who was deliriously happy with their destined mate.

Chichi had met her mate through Bulma, as she had been fated for Bulma’s lifelong friend, Goku.

“Chichi, it’s nothing-” she began.

“Don’t you  _it’s nothing_ me, Bulma Briefs,” Chichi, the Biology writer, scolded. “What on earth happened to you this morning?”

With perhaps her hundredth sigh of the day, Bulma raised her arm, showing Chichi her wrist.

Chichi’s eyes bugged out, before she began sputtering happily, wringing her hands in delight.

“Bulma! You found your Soulmate?!” she whisper-yelled.

“I guess…”

“Oh kami, how wonderful!” Chichi gushed. “Who is he? What’s his name? Is he hot?”

“Some guy I ran into, I don’t know, and…” she paused, considering, “yes, he is actually hot, for a jerk.”

Chichi rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me that ya actually got into a fight with him already?”

“He started it!”

“Bulma…”

“He saved me from a car that was about to hit me, then called me an idiotic woman, ok?”

“Back. The heck. Up,” Chichi said raising a hand, pointing at Bulma. “You mean to tell me that your  _Soulmate_ saved  _your life,_ and you had the nerve to get angry?”

“See Chichi, when you say it that way, it sounds  _way_ worse than it actually is…”

“Bulma,” Chichi shook her head. “This is ridiculous. Aren’t you even curious about the man whom the gods had destined for you?”

Bulma scoffed. “No, I’m not, and I refuse to just up and get with this guy just because I’m supposed to or-”

“Or just because he’s not Yamcha?”

Bulma’s lips snapped shut.

It was Chichi’s turn to sigh. “Bulma-chan… it didn’t work out with Yamcha, not because he isn’t your Soulmate. It really wasn’t working out.”

Bulma breathed in. “Yeah… I know. It’s just… what if it’s the same with my Soulmate? What if  _I’m_  the problem? I mean, if even my Soulmate couldn’t stand me, then who else possibly could?”

“Well,  _I_  tolerate you just fine.”

“Yeah, but you’re a masochist, Chi. You’d have to be, to put up with Goku.”

Chichi threw an eraser at her in response.

“Bulma, just try, alright? Just see if it works out. How hard can it be?”

Bulma sighed, yet again. “Well, firstly… I have no idea who the hell he is, or where to find him. So… there’s  _that.”_

8-8-8-8-8

The small commotion in the Head Editor’s office caught Bulma’s attention, sometime after her lunch.

The HE, Kaio, with his round stomach heaving in excitement, sat with Piccolo, who also looked strangely happy.

Bulma watched as Piccolo turned to go out the door, and his small green eyes scanned the crowd until they fell on Bulma.

“Bulma, a minute?” he called.

She was curious, so she gladly hopped up, walking into the office with a smile.

“You needed me?” she asked, taking a seat before the boss.

“Bulma,” Kaio said. “Remember how we promised to help you find a consultant for that one journal on astrophysics?”

She nodded.

“Well, I am glad to let you know that we had somehow convinced one of the lead researchers of EASA to come and help us for the next week,” he announced loudly, chest puffing up with pride.

She gaped. “Seriously? Someone from the Earth Aeronautics and Space Agency is coming  _here_?”

“He’s already here,” Piccolo said, “and on his way to us right now.”

“Actually,” Kaio said as he glanced up, just as the door opened behind Bulma. “Here he is! Welcome!”

A strange hiccup, from somewhere deep in the center of her chest, made Bulma’s breath catch in her throat, but she shrugged it off as she turned to look at the newcomer.

When her eyes met his equally-shocked gaze, she choked.

Those dark eyes were entirely too familiar, as she had just been staring into them that morning.

“Bulma,” Kaio said, “I would like you to meet Mr. Vegeta Ouji of EASA. Mr. Ouji, Bulma is the physicist whom you will be working with this week.”

Bulma watched as he glanced at his left inner wrist, partially hidden by his long-sleeves, and she too looked down, only to see the inch-long mark in the exact same shade as her hair.

He then glanced at  _her_ wrist, and his eyes narrowed as he spied her own bright red mark.

“Well,” her Soulmate, now known as Vegeta Ouji, remarked, looking up at Kaio, Piccolo, then back at her. “This should be rather interesting.”

Oh, good. At least, they already agreed on  _one_ thing.

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…


	2. Slinked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma tries to keep a level head amidst the frustration of having an unwanted Soulmate, but it seems that not even her unique brand of stubbornness was enough to fight off Vegeta’s unconventional charms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments on the first chapter! Here’s the next part, I hope you like it. :)

He was watching her.

Bulma could feel Vegeta’s dark, narrow eyes burning holes into the back of her head, from his spot at his temporary desk from directly behind her.

She was already close to losing it, and they had only met the previous day.

“I will not turn around. I. Will. Not. Turn. Around,” she muttered to herself, resolute.

She may have to work with him over the course of the coming week, but it did not mean that she would have to _like_ it. Or, like _him._

It was doubly frustrating since Chichi was on business leave from that day, out to the countryside to interview a botanist who had made some new discoveries on the care of flowery plants.

Chichi had been very, very clear to Bulma before she left work the previous day.

“ _You_ will _talk to him, Bulma. I know how stubborn you are, but now that your Soulmate is literally right there, I swear I will_ kill _you if you don’t give this a try.”_

She heard Vegeta clear his throat, and she still kept her eyes fixed on her computer, fingers tapping agitatedly at the reference journals that lay before her.

Reference journals that _Vegeta_ had written.

She had to admit, the man was truly,  _insanely_ smart.

His work held no unnecessary words or remarks, just pure brilliance inked onto paper. His writing style was concise and clear, and he had a great penchant for using jargon in a way that was sophisticated yet not overstated.

Yet, perhaps the most impressive thing to Bulma, was that Vegeta had not only studied astrophysics intensely, but he had also _lived_ it.

Vegeta was an astronaut, who had, combined, lived nearly a year of his life in space.

A part of Bulma turned green with envy as she thought of how, even if she tried for the rest of her life, she could probably never attain the things he had already earned.

If only she hadn’t compromised so much her whole life, then maybe _she_ could have been the star researcher for EASA.

But that was a moot point now, wasn’t it?

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, and from their short encounters, she had come to learn that this meant that he was approaching her.

Finally unable to take any more of his scrutiny, she turned.

She faced him just as he had begun to stand, clearly about to approach her.

“Did you need something, Mr. Ouji?” she asked stiffly, and she watched with satisfaction as his eyes virtually disappeared, gone into such narrow slits.

“I was about to ask you something similar, Ms. Briefs. Do you have everything you need about the article?” he asked.

She smiled, sickly sweet. “Yes, I do. Thank you ever so much.”

He frowned deeply.

“Then, if you have all that you need, you do not truly need me to stay here in your city anymore do you?” he asked. “Perhaps I should take my leave.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Bulma felt a sharp pang of pain strike her right between her breasts.

Confused, she looked down, clutching her chest as the pain persisted, and she looked up at Vegeta in a slight daze as she felt his name hover at the edge of her breaths.

She realized that Vegeta seemed to be in a similar state as he had moved to hold on to the edge of the desk, staggering slightly.

Their eyes met, and Bulma felt her tongue turn to cotton as she looked at him.

A moment of silence, stretching on for what felt like an eternity, came over them, and Vegeta seemed to snap out it more quickly as he stared at her with his sharp gaze.

“Bu- Bulma, ” he stuttered.

She gasped, opening her mouth to speak.

“Vegeta,” she wheezed. “Don’t go.”

She didn’t know why she said it, but at that moment, she realized that she _meant_ it.

He can’t go… _No!_

“I won’t,” he answered softly.

The moment the words left his mouth, the pain ceased, and she took a deep breath as air freely filled her lungs once again.

She looked up at Vegeta, who was panting slightly as he straightened, face turned down into a scowl.

They stared at each other, unmoving.

Finally, he sighed.

“Listen,” he said, his low timbre sending a shiver down her spine.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Shall we talk about,” he raised his left hand, gesturing at his wrist, where his Soulmate Mark still burned blue and bright, “this?”

She hesitated, her left hand clutching her right wrist protectively, concealing the red mark that felt like fire against her palm. 

“Do we have to?” she whispered.

They had successfully avoided the discussion the previous day, but it seemed that it truly was inevitable.

Vegeta raised a brow. “I would like to believe that you know the answer to that question.”

She nodded. “This sucks.”

He smirked. “That, it does.”

8-8-8-8-8

Soulmates or not, Bulma had a deadline, and she truly did need to pick Vegeta’s brains if she wanted a good journal.

They had agreed to discuss their being Soulmates, but had also decided that such a _clearly mundane issue_ could be left for after work hours.

At the moment, however…

“But isn’t that the reason why we usually have binary star systems? Conservation of angular momentum?” she clarified.

They were seated close to each other, brows furrowed as Vegeta answered Bulma’s questions, and his brilliance helped her continuously come up with more.

He nodded. “Yes, but there is more to it than just that. It is true that with more bodies, the stellar system becomes unstable. A bigger issue though, is that with any more than two bodies, the inaccuracy in future predictions grow exponentially, to the point where eventually, the predictions and actual positions will no longer coincide in the slightest.”

“Chaos, then?”

“Chaos,” he agreed. “There will be no stable orbits and two bodies could either collide, or their gravities will react in such a way as to push the other bodies out of the system entirely.”

She listened in rapt attention as he spoke more about his field, about further theories and actual observations he had made in space, and Bulma found herself… enamored.

Speaking to him, beyond just reading his material, was enlightening, and she was astounded by his intellect, the way he connected concepts and spun them into infinite possibilities.

Space was his playground, the texts were his receipts, and Bulma, who herself was a genius, found herself astounded by his eloquence when it came to his study.

He was still a bit of a jerk, but beneath it, Bulma found a man who could not only compete with her brains, but easily surpass her.

It was _incredibly_ attractive.

Her mind strayed slightly as she watched his lips form the words, and somewhere between her admiration for his mind and her begrudging respect, she found herself thinking…

About those lips… those large hands…

The intense dark eyes and his jet black hair…

The clearly defined biceps that bulged through his shirt sleeves, and his thick chest that she could see straining against his shirt…

“Bulma?” she heard him speak, his voice hoarse, breathless.

She snapped out of her daze, and she found herself staring at him, her blue eyes diving deep into his endless black gaze. 

She saw him glance down at her lips, for just a mere moment, but it was long enough for her to take notice…

“Yes?” she answered, her voice a harsh whisper…

She drew back, surprised, a hand on her lips.

What… what the heck was _that?!_

“I…  I’m sorry,” she said.

He shook his head before he looked away, eyes far off.

A beat passed, and she watched his chest expand as he inhaled deeply, and spoke, “It has gotten late. Shouldn’t you head home by now?”

Bulma looked out the nearest window, eyes wide as she realized that it was already dark out.

She checked her watch, amazed to note that it was two hours past her usual dismissal.

“Wow, it really is late!” she said, heart pounding at the thought of how the time she spent with Vegeta had just flown by.

He nodded absently, before he let his gaze travel back to her.

His eyes seemed wider, inquisitive, and though Bulma had some doubts of her own, she decided that she wasn’t quite ready to have them answered.

Not yet.

She stood up, lifting her bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Well, we should both head home, don’t you agree?”

He got up, then, gesturing to her to follow him, he headed for the door.

“Where do you live?” he asked as they stepped out of the building.

Bulma looked at him, surprised.

“Just a few blocks away,” she answered, nervously fidgeting with her bag strap at the unreadable look in his eyes.

He seemed a bit lost for a moment, before he nodded, seemingly to himself.

“Lead the way, then,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Where do you live? I will walk you home.”

“Why?”

He huffed. “Woman, the first time we met, you had nearly gotten run over by a car, in broad daylight. Who knows what could happen to you if you walk home in the dark.”

She bristled. “I can walk home fine by myself. I have done it for years-”

“You will let me _walk you home_. I am not letting you walk in the darkness alone.”

Her heart stopped at his words, a part of it that had yet gone untouched beaming brightly with elation.

His words, harshly spoken as they may be, made her feel… safe.

Unable to argue, she nodded, wordlessly turning around, and she felt him trail right behind her, dutifully keeping watch.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching him discreetly, and she immediately noticed how he walked with a particular litheness, arms swaying lightly at his sides, his powerful legs coiling gracefully with each step.

His back was straight, but not stiff, and he reminded her staunchly of a soldier, hardened and powerful, alert to every single whispered rustle.

A smile quirked up a side of her lips, but Bulma quickly wiped it off, a flustered blush blooming across her cheeks as she realized that she was smiling _fondly_ because of _him_.

Regardless, she paused in her steps, wordlessly inviting him to catch up.

He took her cue, and with a few quick steps, he was walking beside her, their elbows and shoulders occasionally rubbing together, sending sparks rushing through Bulma’s skin.

They walked together in silence, and just like how her afternoon had zipped by without her notice, it seemed like no time at all had passed before Bulma found them standing in front of her apartment.

“So, this is your home…” he muttered.

Bulma snuck a glance at him, only to draw back as their eyes met.

“Y-yes,” she answered, feeling strangely shy, unable to look back up at him. “I’m gonna go in now. Can you find your way back to your hotel?”

“It is not hard to find,” he answered.

They stood dumbly beside each other for several moments, until Bulma, unable to stand the tension, broke the silence.

“I learned a lot from you today, Vegeta. Thank you,” she began, grinning. “Your knowledge is incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever learned so much in a single day, before!”

He smirked. “You are welcome. I have to admit, speaking to you was not as frustrating as I had thought it would be.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” she retorted with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Thanks a bunch.”

“You think I am joking, but I am not,” he said. “Our discussions were… not uncomfortable.”

She quirked a brow at him.

He huffed, a slight twinge of pink tinting his cheeks as he suddenly refused to meet her eyes. “You see, I may be eloquent at my research, but socialization was never my strong suit.”

She giggled. “I’ve always been kind of a people-person.”

“I hate people,” he admitted, and Bulma found it adorable, how he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the concrete while he looked down at his belt.

“Well,” she grinned, “I guess I’m not too bad then, if you don’t hate me just yet.”

“I… did not hate conversing with you,” Vegeta hesitated. “You are quite brilliant Bulma, and I… admire that.”

A furious blush broke out over her face as she stared at him, her heart beating erratically while her breath caught in her throat.

The feeling was inexplicable, and she was stunned at how absolutely flattered she felt at his soft confession.

He looked completely mortified, and she saw his feet begin to pivot, about to run from her…

Bulma acted without thinking, and impulsively grabbed his left hand with her right, halting his movements.

Warmth spread from their palms, seemingly radiating outward, reaching for the Soulmate Marks that connected them as destined mates.

“Vegeta… I…” she hesitated, trying to search for something to say.

“I shall go now,” he said, “but tomorrow, we will speak about the Marks.”

She nodded, and then, with a timid smile, she said, “Until tomorrow, then.”

She released his hand, feeling a strange tingling sensation at her fingertips, and before she could dwell further on the feeling, she took off, hastily running into her apartment.

It was not until nearly an hour later, as Bulma stood in her bathroom, washing off as she prepared for bed, that she noticed…

Her Soulmate Mark, that morning, had been a single, inch-long red line.

She lifted her right hand, staring at her wrist, but specifically, at the new, curled line that now ran across the middle.

Her mark had evolved, yet again.

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…


	3. Winked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soulmates decide to find out a little more about each other, and talks about their pasts lead them to recognize the paths that each had taken in life. With further understanding of each other, their connection grows deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here’s another update! I hope you like this! And as always, your reviews would be very much appreciated.

“Would you like to go out to lunch?”

Bulma looked up from her keyboard to blink in surprise. “What, like… now?”

Vegeta’s eyes rolled so far out that she wouldn’t have been surprised if they had jumped out of their sockets. “Would you prefer to have lunch at night, then?”

She smirked, reaching into her drawers to pull out her purse. “Let’s go.”

He turned to walk away, and she stood up to follow him, but not before looking around accusingly at her co-workers who were all watching them with rapt attention.

Word had gotten out that she and Vegeta were Soulmates, and everybody at work had of course been curious as to how things would play out between her and the celebrity researcher.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that one of them in the small publishing house found out that their Soulmate was a freaking astronaut.

She glared hard at each one until they all either sheepishly went back to work or pretended to stare at something else, then spun on her heel to follow Vegeta out the door.

He was waiting at the lobby, and she smiled at him as she caught up.

“Where do you wanna go?” she asked.

He answered with a shrug. “I don’t really know much about the food choices in this area. I have so far just eaten at the hotel.”

“Are you in the mood for anything in particular?” she asked as they walked out the door.

Another shrug. “I am not picky. I just wanted to get out as I could feel all your co-workers boring holes through my head with their stares.”

Bulma burst out laughing. “You noticed, huh?”

He smirked. “They are not exactly discreet about it. I suppose that they heard about the Marks?”

She sighed. “Chichi told someone, who told someone else, who then told someone else…”

“Ah, the grapevine,” he muttered, brows furrowed in annoyance. “A playground for the feeble-minded.”

“Hey, some of those people are pretty smart,” she protested weakly.

Vegeta just sneered disbelievingly, walking dutifully half a pace behind her as she led them to a nearby burger joint.

She took a seat at a corner table, and he followed suit, looking around the shop as their server handed them their menus.

Bulma picked up the menu as she spoke, “Pick whatever you want, my treat.”

He scoffed, raising a brow. “Ridiculous. _I_ shall pay for our meals.”

She shook her head, looking at him over the top of the menu.

“No way, mister. Consider this my thanks for your help with the article,” she said.

He shook his head more emphatically. “Nonsense. I am being paid to be here. I am probably making more this week than you do in three months.”

“Ok, first of all, _ouch_ ,” she said, pointing an offended finger at him. “And second, while you may be right, I still wanna treat you to something.”

“Get us some coffee later, then. Lunch is on me,” he declared as he hailed the waitress.

Bulma ordered a chicken burger, fries and iced tea, and proceeded to have her jaw fall open as she listened to Vegeta list down his massive order.

“Wow,” she commented as the waitress turned to fill their orders. “Are you really gonna be able to eat all that?”

He grinned. “Let us just say that the dinner and breakfast buffets at the hotel have their hands full with me.”

“You’re so… lean, though,” she couldn’t help blurting out as she shook her head in disbelief.

And boy, was he _ever._

He was not very tall, but the entirety of him was built exquisitely. He was pure muscle, radiating strength and power, and she didn’t miss the way that his presence managed to quickly snag the attention of most women – and some men – around them.

“I work it off, do not be mistaken,” he answered before her mind could stray further on his physicality. “I spend at least an hour at the gym, daily. I need to keep up my fitness for my space assignments.”

“Must be nice,” she muttered.

“And what of you,” he asked, eying her thin arms and shoulders. “You don’t exactly eat like a rabbit. I saw you eat lunch yesterday.”

She shrugged. “I guess I just got lucky with my metabolism. I mean, I do yoga sometimes, but I’m not really a big fitness enthusiast.”

“Then you are among the lucky ones, if you can freely indulge in food and yet still have a body that looks as good as yours does.”

She was about to rag on him for dissing on her eating habits, when the full impact of his comment hit her. A furious scarlet blush rushed to her cheeks, and she looked up at his face, noting his placid expression.

“Did you…” she started.” Did you just… compliment my body?”

It seemed as if Vegeta himself had not truly realized his words, as with her question, he paled, an almost sick look on his face.

“I… I don’t mean… that is to say…” he muttered.

“Why, Vegeta,” she smirked, seeing a chance to tease him. “I didn’t realize that you _looked_ at me that way.”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, the movement pulling his sleeves up so his Soulmate Mark was visible over the edges of his long sleeves.

“Tch. Vulgar woman,” he muttered.

Bulma burst into laughter. “Could it be, that I have just found the mighty Vegeta Ouji’s greatest weakness? Innuendo?”

He pretended to ignore her as she snickered, and as she laughed at his discomfort, her eyes drifted to fully gaze at his Soulmate Mark.

Like hers, his mark had grown a curly line across the center of the straight one, but his was in the bright blue shade of her hair.

She sobered. “Hey, Vegeta?”

Her serious tone called his attention, and he looked back at her, a question in his own eyes.

“Do you think… should we start talking about…” she raised her own hand, showing him her mark.

He uncrossed his arms, and he looked down at the table, where he rested his hands, palms-up.

Vegeta took a few moments to himself, silently staring at the mark, before he began to speak.

“I…,” he hesitated. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking for my Soulmate. I wasn’t intending on finding a significant other, at all.”

She breathed in deeply, slowly. “Neither was I.”

“I was content with how my life had been going, working on my career, making a name for myself,” he said. “I had been thinking that settling down would hold me back.”

Bulma leaned back with a sardonic bark of laughter. “And _I_ know what it’s like, being held back. It’s the reason why I didn’t want to find myself in another relationship. It gave me nothing but heartache the first time. How could that possibly change, now?”

They both glanced up as the waitress arrived with their food, and Bulma couldn’t help but grin as Vegeta’s food filled nearly the entire table.

He picked up a burger, but his gaze was far away from the spread as he began speaking again.

“I was orphaned at a young age,” he confessed, making her straighten in her seat. “I was placed in the custody of an abusive caretaker, and as I neared my eighteenth birthday, I resolved to remove myself completely from my past, to be powerful, so I would never have to suffer again.”

He bit into his food, chewing thoughtfully. Bulma took his cue, picking up her own sandwich.

Vegeta spoke again. “I moved out the moment the clock struck midnight on my eighteenth. I was finally of legal age, and can live on my own. I had always excelled at school, so my teachers helped me find scholarships to put me through college. I lucked out… I got a full ride. I went across the country to attend university. Graduated Summa Cum Laude. And before I had even touched my diploma, I received a job offer from EASA.”

“So, you had a rough childhood, but made a much better life for yourself,” she mused. “That’s… amazing, how you rose up like that.”

“It was not easy,” He smirked, before turning the spotlight on her. “And you? What is the only daughter of Dr. Trunks Briefs doing in a backward city, working a second-rate job?”

She gasped. “You know of my father?”

“Of course,” he said. “I met him once, when I was twelve. He gave a talk at our elementary school. I was the top student and had been given the chance to speak with him. He had… inspired me, to reach for my dreams.”

“I suppose then, that you heard of his passing sixteen years ago?” she asked, voice soft, residual pain making itself evident.

He nodded. “An irreplaceable loss for the scientific community. I heard he had been on the edge of making a breakthrough on nanotechnology.”

“He was,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she began her story. “His death was sudden… painful. I had lived a pampered life before that, and when my father died, my mother and I didn’t know what to do with ourselves. And then, _she_ got sick. I was a teen, I had no idea how to care for her, but I used up most of our money trying to keep her alive.”

She paused to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. “When time came for me to go to university… I had wanted to be an engineer, a scientist, like my father. But the university was too far away, and I couldn’t leave my mother. So I went to a nearby Community College, and took Physics, because that’s all they had for the Sciences.”

Tears filled her eyes. “It was there that I met Yamcha, my first love. After we graduated, I found a job near our hometown so I could stay close to him and my mother. But… my mother died soon after, and while I was seeking comfort from him, he broke it off with me because… because our marks didn’t… we weren’t meant to be. So, I left, got myself this job, and just stayed here.”

Vegeta chewed silently as he listened, and when he looked up, Bulma thought she saw what looked like… sympathy… in his dark gaze.

“I understand now,” he muttered. “I had been wondering why someone of your background was wasting her potential in this place. I see now that you had to… _compromise,_ on a lot of things. Made do. And thus, you never tried to reach for greater things.”

“It’s not that I didn’t _want_ to-”

“I _understand._ Truly, I do,” he cut her off. “If things had been different, with your brilliance, you could have had the world at your fingertips. Been a queen in your own right. But the circumstances ran against you.”

She nodded, feeling the tears begin to leak from her blue eyes. “I’ve been a bit of a chronic underachiever. I’ve been trying to find better things lately, but I didn’t really have a good start, so it’s hard to branch out.”

He looked straight at her, and in any other situation, Bulma would have laughed at how intense he looked as he picked up another burger.

“I could… assist you,” he said. “Put a good word in. You are truly brilliant, woman, and I wish to see that potential blossom.”

She looked surprised. “You would do that… For me?”

His lips began to quirk up, and Bulma watched in awe as a beautiful smile lifted his lips, his dark eyes sparkling like a starry night.

His entire face looked like a slice of a dream, and she gasped as her heart began to beat harder against her chest, her hands frozen halfway as she reached for a tissue to wipe her tears.

A smiling Vegeta, while startling to behold, was truly remarkable.

And from what she knew of him thus far, she would bet that _smiling_ was not something he did very often.

His eyes were gleaming with promise as he reached forward, his hand hesitantly hovering over hers, before his warm palm fell gently onto the back of her hand.

“We may have been thrust into this Soulmate business without our consent,” he said, “But… we know that we are linked, somehow. And I would very much like to be a part of your life in whatever way. Helping you become the woman that you have always been meant to become… I wish to help. And I know that if you had the resources at your disposal, you will be _extraordinary,_ Bulma.”

She snapped out of her daze to look at his large hand on her much smaller one, and the lump in her chest rose up into a sob from her throat.

“I… thank you, Vegeta,” she whispered, smiling up at him as well.

Something about her words, or how she looked at him, must have affected him as well, as Bulma watched him clear his throat while a dark blush took over his cheeks.

“Shall we finish our lunch, then?” he asked, pointedly going back to his meal, scarfing down his fries with audible swallows.

She winked at him playfully as she resumed eating, starting on her fries.

As she raised her hand to her mouth to nip at a fry, however, she paused, dropping her food.

Vegeta noticed. “What? What is wrong?”

Wordlessly, Bulma turned her hand, until her right wrist faced Vegeta.

Vegeta’s eyes widened, and he lifted _his_ hand… and what he saw had his eyes widening further into near comical proportions.

He too, turned his wrist towards her, and there, Bulma saw what she had already suspected she would see…

On both her wrist and Vegeta’s, the small curly line had grown, and now, their marks looked like small vines spreading across their wrists and reaching towards the length of their arms.

Bulma swallowed.

Vegeta raised his other hand, and with a croak in his voice, called out, “Check, please!”

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…


	4. Blinked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a sudden strange turn for Bulma and Vegeta, and it seems as if their budding relationship just went from kinda-great to not-so-great within the blink of an eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! It’s my birthday today! I almost didn’t finish this – because party, food and work, lol – but I did! And after y’all read this… just please keep in mind that it’s my birthday, ok? :D
> 
> I hope you like this! And as always, your reviews would be very much appreciated.

 

If Bulma had thought that talking to Vegeta about the marks will bring her more peace of mind, then she may have been a little bit mistaken.

After their surprisingly pleasant exchange at the burger joint, she had believed that the two of them had at least come to an amicable understanding.

However, after they noticed the new changes to the Soulmate Marks, it seemed as if Vegeta had become more… aloof.

He had quickly ushered them both out of the restaurant, leaving their server an unnecessarily generous tip as he basically dragged Bulma back to the office.

The rest of the day was tense, as he seemed to try his level best to ignore her, and Bulma felt a pang of disappointment as she realized that she _wanted_ to keep getting to know him better.

He was acting as if she had somehow done something to offend him, and she was unsettled because she had liked what she had seen in his eyes while they were out to lunch.

She had seen the gentler side of him, the more human part that went beyond the impressive academic that he was.

As the day drew to a close, Bulma looked towards his desk, only to dejectedly notice that he was gone.

She gathered up her belongings, heading home by herself as she had done every night before… but somehow, she was left feeling more bereft.

The walk home seemed a lot longer, quieter, than it had always been.

8-8-8-8-8

It had been a tiring day, and Bulma was lounging about her living room in a loose shirt and old gym shorts, about to get ready for bed, when she heard the doorbell ring.

Startled out of watching the half-naked men of Macedon on the TV drama, she grumbled in discontent as she dusted herself of any stray kernels of popcorn, and made her way to the door, stomping the whole way.

“Just a damn second,” she called out as the bell rang for the fourth time.

“I swear Chichi if this is you,” she muttered as she rose on tiptoes to peer into the peephole.

Dark hair greeted her eyes through the glass, and she was about to open the door when she realized that whoever it was, it was not Chichi.

The dark head rose up, looking impatiently at her door, and she drew back in shock as she immediately recognized the scowling face lined by thick dark brows…

He raised his hand to ring the bell again, and Bulma scrambled to unlock the door before he could.

“Vegeta,” she greeted as soon as she swung the door open. She was strangely out of breath, surprised at the completely unexpected visit.

The first thing she noticed as she looked at him was that the composed man that she had known for the past few days seemed slightly bedraggled.

His eyes were rather wild, and he had ditched the long-sleeved button-downs in favor of a collared salmon shirt. He was wearing a pair of simple khaki pants, and his large hands were in loose fists at his side.

“May I come in?” he asked, though he did not wait for an answer before he pushed past her and marched determinedly into her home.

“Yeah, sure, be my guest,” she muttered under her breath.

He stood in the center of her living room, looking extremely out of place, his demeanor screaming his discomfort as his body seemed to make an effort to stay as far away from all of her belongings as possible.

“What brings you here? And how did you even know which apartment I live in?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest, doubly conscious of the fact that she was not wearing anything beneath her shirt.

“This building has only three floors, and your door has a large pink _Bulma_ on it,” he deadpanned.

She blinked. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

He crossed his arms, looking away.

“So, um…” Bulma asked. “May I please know the reason for this visit?”

Vegeta kept his gaze away from her, a distressed frown on his lips.

“Vegeta?” she called again. “Is everything al-”

“…no reason,” he mumbled.

“I beg your pardon?”

He sighed deeply, letting his arms fall down his sides limply. He looked so defeated, and a part of Bulma wanted so badly to comfort him, even while an even larger part remained confused.

“No reason,” he said again. “I came here for no reason. And that _irritates_ me.”

She blinked at him, even more confused. “I don’t understand…”

“Exactly!” he burst out, hands flying up as if in defeat. “I do not understand. Both of us, do not understand. And I… I hate this- this uncertainty! I am not used to being so confounded, Bulma.”

“Vegeta, you’re not making any sense!” she exclaimed, moving towards him even as she hesitated at how he looked so utterly _lost._

“ _None_ of this makes sense, woman!” he nearly yelled.

Bulma pulled back, nervous.

He began pacing as he spoke again. “I did not want a Soulmate. I told you, did I not? So then why—why does everything within me feel like _this?_ ”

“Like what?” she asked

“Like I _need_ you so badly!” he hissed, finally stopping to look at her, and she froze at the terrified look that she found in his eyes.

Bulma knew, without a doubt, that if she were to look in a mirror, she would see the exact same look in her own gaze.

He kept ranting. “I gravitate towards you in a way that I have never been pulled towards anyone before. I see you as if… as if the dawn comes to life through the very light from your eyes…”

Bulma would have choked from his poetic mumbling if she hadn’t paused to realize that…

It was the same for her.

She didn’t want a Soulmate. And she had denied any feelings for Vegeta, screaming in her head that they had just met and that it was utterly ridiculous to be so _connected_ to someone in such a short period of time.

But, she was a woman of science, and facts were facts; and the fact was, that she was utterly smitten with Vegeta.

“You understand me, don’t you?” he asked. “We cannot even try to fight it, as the marks make us physically ill. How are we to know how much of this is _us_ , and how much is from the marks?”

She choked, the words freezing in her throat. “Vegeta…”

“Tell me!” he exclaimed, moving towards her, harried, hands outstretched.

He grasped her upper arms, and Bulma just gaped at him, feeling a peculiar sort of nausea in her head as she realized that she did not know the answer either.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, “Vegeta please… I need to think about this. I need to understand…”

“You… you feel it, don’t you? The urge… Wanting me with you… wanting to know more about me,” he demanded softly, tinged with a note of pleading. “Because I do. I had been pushing it away, but I will tell you now that the reason I pushed you out of the way of that car was not pure altruism, but the fact that, the moment I saw you across the street, something in me insisted that I must, by all means, protect you.”

Bulma gasped. She thought about the day he saved her life, how she had looked at him and seen his beauty, had been shocked into silence by his eyes…

“Yes… Yes, it’s the same for me,” she confirmed. “A part of me… something in me… tells me that you and I are supposed to be together…”

“Bulma,” he rasped, and before she could blink, he had pulled her close to his chest with his arms wrapped around her, a harsh, almost angry growl seeping from his throat…

And all of a sudden, his lips were against hers, demanding, needy and overwhelming, the heat of him searing her from the tips of her fingers to the depths of her core.

She gasped painfully before a moan ripped unbidden from her lips, and every nerve in her body came alive as she opened her mouth to him, her hands reaching forward to greedily hold on to the powerful arms that she had dreamed of touching since the first time she had laid eyes on him.

He was relentless, pulling her to him with compulsive need, as he dove into her, made a home in her heart through the possessive touch of his lips.

Her eyes fell closed as she felt his breaths grow ragged against her cheeks, as his chest rubbed tantalizingly across her thinly-clothed breasts.  

His kiss was fire, his caress like lightning, and Bulma was lost in the incredible sensations of being _one_ with him, of being held in the arms of the only person in the universe who could ever touch the deepest parts of her soul…

It seemed as if their thoughts had gone the same route, as both pulled away at exactly the same time, breaths stunted and shallow.

Her hands flew to her lips, eyes meeting his in absolute shock.

He was frozen in place, looking down, and Bulma followed his gaze to see that he was staring unblinking at the Soulmate Mark on his arm.

She too looked down, and she watched in a mixture of awe and horror as the mark changed before her eyes, like the fluid strokes of a master artist, painting crawling lines upon her skin.

The earlier vines moved, and she followed the flowing ink until it had grown into what looked like a sprig of foliage on her wrist, an outline of red leaves that stood out cheerfully against her alabaster skin.

“Do you see what I mean?” he asked, bewildered. “These marks… it is as if they need to fulfill the pattern they were meant to create, and instead of us moving closer, they are _insistently forcing us_ together.”

She swallowed, unable to speak.

“This whole thing with these damn marks is… _manipulating_ me. It’s not real! What I am going through now… It can’t be real!”

“Vegeta,” she said, voice soft amidst her shock, as Vegeta angrily clutched at his hair, before dragging his hand down his face in very clear frustration.

“This isn’t me. I don’t go around talking to women, kissing them and being _nice._ Without these marks, I probably would not give half a damn about you. I’ve been… it is as if I've been bewitched!”

“Why are you so angry? I-”

“Why aren’t _you?!”_ he bellowed. “Why are you just standing there, taking it? Did you not say to me that you weren’t looking for your Soulmate? How are you so… so placid about this?!”

Bulma gaped helplessly as he ranted in rage before her, her heart bleeding at his words.

“Did it never occur to you how the gods have been stringing us along like puppets? The marks… they react to our actions. How much would you bet that the marks would do something drastic if I were to walk away right now? Choice is an illusion, as far as these marks are concerned.”

She stared at him, both of them breathing hard, until her throat finally decided to move again, allowing her to utter a single word-

“Chaos,” she muttered, eyes watery as she looked at Vegeta…

Her Soulmate…

“What did you-”

She laughed ironically as she continued. “Chaos. We were discussing it yesterday. We… the two of us and our mark… we are going into Chaos.”

He looked at her in confusion as she began to giggle, hysteria seeping into her as her mind connected concepts in a twisted way.

“We were both doing fine in our lives. We had stable environments. Then… this Soulmate mark came along, and now there’s the two of us, and this strange attraction, in an environment wherein we wanted to just be left alone. And now our orbits are unstable,” she said, unable to stop the near-irrational flow of words. “And now, we are gravitating towards each other against our wills, and these marks expect our gravities to push our doubts out of our environment, entirely.”

Vegeta looked at her like she was losing her mind, and perhaps, she was.

She laughed again, a choked bark of disbelief.

“But we’re smart people,” she went on. “We can’t just push the doubts away. We need interference… Logic. To control this chaos. And- and these _feelings_...”

She shook her head, “These feelings aren’t logical, Vegeta!”

He stared at her, defeated… wary. “No. They are not.”

“Then what are we even still doing here?!” she finally cried, and with her impassioned question, she felt the tears begin to flow down her cheeks, salty and heavy on her still swollen lips. “This… this needs to stop, doesn’t it?”

He just stared at her, unmoving.

“You… you need to stay away from me,” she said, hands going to her chest as she felt the stirrings of pain begin to ignite. “We can’t let some stupid marks control the lives that we have led solely all this time. Your career… your _drive…_ you can’t let my _mediocrity_ pull you down.”

“Tch,” he said. “And you can’t let my obsessiveness hamper your relaxed lifestyle.”

“We need to stop this,” she whispered.

He nodded. “We do.”

They stared at each other then, both looking as dejected as the other felt.

“Shall we… say goodbye then?” she asked.

Vegeta glanced towards the door, determined, even as a pained look crossed his face. “I shall be gone by tomorrow.”

Bulma looked, _really_ looked at him, committing his features to memory, before she turned away from him, resolutely facing the other way.

“Then, goodbye, Vegeta,” she called, her voice breaking as she said his name.

She heard footsteps, soft but even, move slowly away from her, and she refused to turn around even as the door gently opened and closed, knowing that her mark would not allow her to watch him walk away.

She glanced down at her arm as she _felt_ him walk away, and she was not surprised at all to see that the leaves that had grown on her Soulmate Mark earlier had changed…

The dark outline of the leaves, which had grown healthy and round as they had kissed, now dipped listlessly towards her hand, sadly wilting as her soul mourned her loss.

 _Vegeta_ …

8-8-8-8-8

To be continued…


	5. Synced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta begin to truly understand their feelings, with a little help from their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooo sorry for this incredibly late update! Some of you may remember that I had gotten really sick soon after posting the last chapter of this, but now that I am better, I am back!  
> I hope you enjoy this, and as always, feedback gives me liiiiife.

“Hello?”

Bulma held the phone to her cheek with her shoulder as she tried to answer the call and sort through the growing pile of papers on her desk.

“Good morning. Am I speaking to Ms. Bulma Briefs?” asked the voice on the other line.

“Yes, this is Ms. Briefs. May I ask who is on the line, please?”

“Ms. Briefs, I am Dr. Gero from NRRU, the New Red Ribbon University,” he said, making Bulma straighten in her seat, papers forgotten as she quickly grabbed the phone with both hands.

NRRU was a premier academic and research institute, and she knew of Dr. Gero through the several books he had written on nuclear physics.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Gero?” she asked, her heart leaping within her chest.

“We had received a recommendation for you from one of our colleagues, and I wish to ask if you would be interested in coming in for an interview to fill a job vacancy as a Research Fellow for our Physics Department?”

Her jaw fell slack, mouth open in shock, as she digested what she had just heard.

She had just been asked to try for a post at _freaking_ NRRU.

She nearly wheezed, one hand flying to her chest to keep her heart from ripping straight through her rib cage.

This… was unbelievable…

And she knew exactly who had made it possible.

“Ms. Briefs? Are you still there?”

“Yes!” she yipped, before she cleared her throat and tried to answer with a smidge more dignity. “Yes, Dr. Gero. I am still on the line. And I am, of course, very interested regarding your offer for an interview.”

“Alright then, have you a pen and paper? Please take down these details,” Gero said, and Bulma made a mad scramble for a pen to take down the interview details, now set for three days away.

She thanked him profusely before she practically flew to HR to file for a day of vacation leave, and as she sat back down on her desk, she had the widest smile on her face, immediately alerting Chichi.

“What’s up, Bulma?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Bull _crap,”_ replied her friend. “You have been morose for days. Ever since- well, ya know…”

And she _did._

When she and Vegeta had agreed to part ways, she had known it would be difficult, but never imagined that it would be so all-consumingly _painful_.

She wholeheartedly blamed the marks, as she knew that it was the stupid things that caused her so much grief, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe…

Maybe…

Maybe she had really been falling for him, Soulmate or not.

He was intelligent, handsome, determined to succeed and unconventionally caring… things that she had always known that she wanted in a man, but had never found until he came along.

And in her – _their –_ stubbornness, they had pulled away from each other before they could discover what they truly had brewing, because both were overly cautious about being manipulated by a fate that they cannot control.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Chichi reached forward to hold her hand, and Bulma’s lips quivered when she spied the pitying sadness in her friend’s gaze.

“Bulma,” Chichi hesitated. “Don’t you think that maybe you should-”

“No, Chi,” she said, cutting off a sentiment that had been repeated to her several times already.

“But…”

“I am not gonna ask him to come back,” Bulma said. “This… this is nothing! I’ve just hit a bit of a snag, but I’m gonna be fine.”

Chichi looked unconvinced, but nodded, pulling her hand back.

Chichi smiled with forced brightness as Bulma did the same, asking again, “So, why were you so happy just now?”

Bulma excitedly told her about the phone call, expecting Chichi to be as ridiculously happy as she was, but Chichi just frowned again.

“What? Why do you look so sad?” she asked.

“Because… well, can’t you see, Bulma,” she responded haltingly. “This was Vegeta’s doing. He is still looking out for you. And if that isn’t a sign of true affection, I don’t know _what_ is.”

“Chichi, I can’t just accept that he’s the one, all because of a dumb tattoo-”

“It isn’t, though!” Chichi exclaimed, suddenly standing up, hands balled into tiny fists at her side. “You are self-sabotaging, as usual!”

Bulma’s eyes widened, and she was about to say something when Chichi held a hand up to her to silence her.

“You always give up before you can start. You find a negative sign before you see the go-signal,” Chichi ranted. “You have sacrificed everything for everyone else, and have gotten so used to compromising that you have never tried to take a risk for _yourself!”_

“Chichi-”

“Do ya think Goku and I had it all so easy?” she asked, raising a hand up to pinch her eyes in frustration. “You know what he’s like. He wasn’t ready to settle down. He didn’t even seem to understand what it meant! But I knew that I wanted him, and I _fought,_ Bulma. I wanted that man, I fought for him, and now I have never been happier.”

“It’s not the same thing!” Bulma protested. “You and Goku fell in love with each other-”

“Didn’t _you?”_

Bulma paused, stunned.

Did she?

Did she actually, really fall for Vegeta?

“Maybe you need to see him again, Bulma. Or talk to him. Just one more time… Your soulmate mark has been wilting so badly lately and… maybe if you talk to Vegeta again, you can use that as your guide.”

Bulma looked down at her arm, where her soulmate mark looked like a branch of wilted leaves, the previously bright scarlet lines now a fading, brownish red.

Her mark looked as miserable as she felt…

“Maybe… maybe after this interview. I just need some more time,” Bulma said.

Chichi smiled sadly at her, leaning down to once again hold her hands in hers.

“I wish you luck, Bulma.”

And Bulma knew, that Chichi was not just talking about the interview.

8-8-8-8-8

NRRU was massive, and Bulma was in heaven as she looked around at the high-tech cars and freshly-painted buildings comprising the Scientific Research Department.

Dr. Gero, a kindly old man with long gray hair, was an amazing person, and Bulma somehow managed to answer all his questions in spite of her rioting nerves.

The fact that Gero was so supportive helped a lot, and nearly an hour after they had shook hands as they met, Gero leaned back in his chair with a very fond grin.

“You really are as brilliant as I had been told you were,” Gero said. “Then again, coming from this colleague of mine, I knew that his recommendations are valuable, as he is rather hard to impress. And you really impressed him, Ms. Briefs.”

Bulma hesitated, before she asked, “I just wanted to confirm… I was referred to you by Mr. Vegeta Ouji, am I correct?”

“Yes, and I should give him a call to thank him. This interview we just had was one of the most entertaining ones I have had in years!”

She beamed, “Does this mean that I pass your screening then, Dr. Gero?”

He nodded. “I shall be forwarding the results of this interview to our Recruitment team, and I will be asking them to expedite your paperwork. I think you will be an asset, Ms. Briefs, and I am looking forward to working with you.”

Bulma wanted to cry from how happy she was, disbelief running along with her unparalleled excitement.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Gero,” she said. “I am so excited, and I am really going to do my best here, I promise.”

Gero stood up, and both of them reached forward to shake hands.

However, as they did, Bulma noticed something strange…

Gero’s sleeve had ridden up, and she saw that his arm was riddled with a pale, ash gray tattoo that was in the vague shape of a butterfly.

Gero noticed her gaze, and with a fatherly smile, he moved to pull his sleeve up, exposing his arm to her.

“Is that…” Bulma began.

“My Soulmate Mark,” Gero confirmed. “Back in the day, this was in the form of a lovely golden butterfly.”

Bulma swallowed, unsure, but curiosity won over and she asked, “Did it also start to fade when you rejected your Soulmate?”

Gero’s eyes widened at her question. “Rejected?”

She nodded, confused.

The old Doctor smiled, shaking his head. “I did not reject my Soulmate. She was my wife, for many years, and this mark turned into this… after she passed away.”

“I am so sorry…”

“It was quite a few years ago, and she left me with my wonderful son, who is working in the NRRU Robotics Department,” he smiled, before he asked, “What made you believe that I had rejected my Soulmate, Ms. Briefs?” 

With an embarrassed blush, she pulled her sleeve up to show him her own wilting tattoo. “My… my mark turned into this after my Soulmate and I parted ways. We weren’t quite sure of each other…”

Gero frowned. “Ms. Briefs… the way your mark has reacted… that is not how the Marks react to rejected or unfit Soulmates.”

She furrowed her brow at him, curious.

“If you and your Soulmate find yourselves incompatible, the Marks would change from their original state, but would not transform into more complex patterns,” he explained.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that the way your Mark looks, is how it would if both your heart and soul have found your match, but you have been made to part ways,” he said kindly, a fond smile on his lips. “The mark would have grown beautiful, but after you left your Soulmate, it faded, as if your soul was in mourning… just as mine mourns every single day after I had lost my dear wife.”

Bulma gaped, stunned. “This means… that my Soulmate… is also the man for my heart?”

Gero’s smiled widened. “I suggest that you try to be with him again. No spat is worth not being with your Soulmate. Believe me, Ms. Briefs… if you return to him, it would be the best decision you will ever make.”

She felt the tears gather in her eyes, and she nodded, mind made.

“Thank you Dr. Gero,” she said sincerely. “Both for this opportunity, and for the advice.”

Within minutes, she was racing out of the university, determined to make things right…

She was going to get her Soulmate back.

8-8-8-8-8

Back in NRRU, an old gray-haired Physics expert was grinning as he dialed the number of a certain colleague in the EASA.

“Yes,” came the curt reply.

“Boy, I suggest you get your butt moving back to that city,” the doctor said. “That young lady looks just as miserable as you do.”

“Dr. Gero-”

“Vegeta,” he said, a note of warning in his tone. “Remember our discussion about Entropy?”

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma sighed, feeling stupid.

She had just realized that she didn’t have Vegeta’s number.

“For a smart person, I sure can be dumb,” she muttered as she sat on her bed in the wee hours of the morning, sleepy but unable to sleep, scrolling helplessly through her phone contacts.

How the hell did she never think of getting his number?

She would have to ask Piccolo if he had it.

She needed to talk to Vegeta. She _needed_ to have him with her again.

As the thought filled her mind, she felt a small tingle begin to run up her arm, like a slither of a current moving beneath her skin.

She placed her phone down on the center table, glancing at her arm…

Her eyes widened, and she brought her arm up close to her eyes, squinting.

The mark had changed, the first visible movement that Bulma had seen since she last saw Vegeta.

The pale red that she had been used to seeing lately had shifted, as if a light had been injected into it from the inside. It bled into a deeper, brighter shade, from the very bottom line that slashed across her wrist to the edges of the wilted leaves along her arm.

A pulse ran through her as she watched the changing colors, and a strange sensation crept up from her chest, as if waiting anxiously for something that was sure to happen…

A sudden knocking sound startled her, and she shook her head to clear it as her addled brain slowly realized that the sound was coming from the front door.

Lost in thought, she walked robotically towards it, but as she turned the knob, she didn’t peer through the peephole to see who had come knocking.

She pulled the door open, and her heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted her…

Painfully familiar dark hair in riotous flame-like waves, a sharp widow’s peak that accentuated severe dark eyes… whose penetrating gaze went through her like shards of lightning, making her heart beat a thunderous rhythm within her chest…

She trembled, overwhelmed; her hands slowly raised to hold in a sob that threatened to break through her lips…

She choked on his name as her eyes greedily roved his form, grateful for the chance to see his frowning face and his muscular body clothed in a simple white button-down shirt and blue denim jeans.

She clutched her throat as she finally found her voice, but now it was her mind that began to claw for something to say.

Yet, she came up blank, and the only thing she managed to do was choke out a single word.

“Vegeta…” she called softly, eyes searching his as he stared intently at her.

He too opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly snapped it shut, his brows furrowing so low as his brilliant brain cast around for his thoughts, and just as she had begun to think that he was also coming up empty, he growled.

“Entropy,” he said, making her grimace in confusion.

Of all the things to say, she never expected _that_.

“What?” she asked, lost.

“We were too hasty. We rushed through our inferences and came to incorrect conclusions,” he said, his words stumbling quickly, one after another.

“Vegeta, are you alright? You’re not making sense-”

“We’re not in chaos, Bulma. We just need to analyze our degree of entropy,” he said, eyes now wide and unreasonably bright. “We have a bit of disorder and randomness on our hands. But it is not the disarray that we had first seen it as.”

Bulma was still lost, her confusion giving way to irritation as his cryptic words stirred up her already jumbled mind. “Why are we talking about physics at two in the morning?”

“Physics is our point of commonality, is it not?” he asked. “It seemed as if we were thrust into this strange situation in complete bedlam, but it is all simply _random_ , and not really _chaotic,_ isn’t it? May I come in?”

Dumbfounded, she nodded, wordlessly stepping aside as he moved past her and promptly took a seat on her couch, dropping a backpack on the floor beside him.

She moved to close the door behind him before she turned to face him once more.

Vegeta looked up at her then, brows furrowed together, and much to Bulma’s amusement, he gestured towards the chair, patting a spot beside himself as in _inviting_ her to sit on _her_ couch.

She chuckled in disbelief before she obliged him, promptly taking the seat beside him, her knees knocking softly against his when they both turned to face each other.

“Ok, Vegeta… I need you to slow down. What are you trying to tell me?” she asked gently, trying to placate the clearly manic man sitting before her.

He shook his head. “Bulma- This… _Us_. It is not as chaotic as we had thought. It was just that it had felt so _random._ It was just a seemingly random match-up, but if we sit still long enough to analyze it…”

He trailed off, staring intently into her blue eyes, a look akin to helplessness leaking from his dark gaze. “Randomization removes the risk of bias. If we had been left to our own devices to find our matches, we would have been stuck searching uselessly within a biased set, an easily-accessible control group that did not contain the variable that would yield the best possible outcome.”

Bulma sucked in a deep breath, her sleepy mind jolting awake as she finally began to understand what Vegeta was getting at.

“I suppose…” she started, gulping between unsteady breaths. “If we had searched by ourselves, we would only be able to look within our current environments, our separate crowds. We would never think to look beyond our own cliques and the people surrounding us.”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “And these Soulmate Marks… They were not random, after all. They were the most calculated things to have ever come to be. They were installed upon us by a higher power who knew that something-”

“Someone,” she corrected softly.

He stared harder at her, his eyes melting her from the inside and out, before rebuilding her, sculpting her into something that would only grow more beautiful beneath his hands.

“Someone,” he amended in a whisper. “Someone better for us… is out there, previously completely inaccessible to us both.”

“For who would think that my Soulmate would be a hotshot astronaut?” she agreed.

“And who would suspect that the woman I would someday fall in love with was a blue-haired academic writer stuck in a backward, sleepy city?”

She gasped, eyes going wide as his muttered question spread from her ears to every fiber of her form.

“In… in love?” she asked hoarsely, her breaths shallow in elated disbelief.

“I do not know how… neither do I know when,” he said earnestly, “But somehow, between the time I pushed you away from the path of a speeding car, and the time you spoke of your past to me in that small restaurant…”

She began to shake, and as if sensing her turmoil, Vegeta hesitantly, slowly, reached up to grasp her trembling hands within his larger, steadier palms.

“My... My heart,” he stuttered in a voice nearly too soft for her to hear, but Bulma knew that her own heart could have heard his words, even if her ears had not.

“Your heart…?” she egged on.

He swallowed, face simultaneously pale and flushed. “My heart… began to yearn for what my soul knew I needed. And… and…”

She hiccupped, and it was only as she tasted salt on her lips that she even realized that she had been crying in response to his words and actions.

“Vegeta,” she spoke, trying to see him through her watery eyes.

She needed to watch him, see him clearly as she finally accepted what her spirit had known all along.

“I need you with me,” she said, her heart threatening to pound through her chest as she finally, _finally_ understood. “You’re what I want. I was so stupid to try to reject it…”

“We both were,” he admitted. “Bulma, our _minds_ were the only ones in chaos. We had been overthinking things-”

“And it conflicted with what we both could already _feel,”_ she cut in. “And what I feel for you… Vegeta…”

She felt her arms begin to burn from her Soulmate Mark, but the sensation was not painful…

On the contrary, the flowing fissures of energy felt invigorating, divine…

And as Vegeta moved closer, taking her face in his palms as his thumbs wiped away the tracks of her tears, Bulma surrendered to the all-encompassing knowledge that, gods and tattoos aside, this man was _the man_ for her.

Her hands clutched at his arms as she trembled, as she felt his own body shake in response to her nearness, and compelled by the beauty of his lips, the depth of his eyes, she moved closer to him as he too reached down to clutch her against him.

Their lips met, his caress but a soft touch that felt like clouds upon her mouth, and Bulma closed her eyes with an eager moan as she felt him hold her tighter. His powerful hands felt sure, secure against her back as he pulled her to him, his mouth devouring her while she luxuriated in his warmth.

It was as if his kiss had filled her with light, as Bulma felt glorious in his arms, the shivers running through her pulling goosebumps beneath her skin.

Vegeta groaned, and she gasped as he deepened their connection, as he held her even tighter, and Bulma didn’t even consider resisting when he pushed her down to lay upon her couch.

His backpack on the floor was later joined by his shirt, her thin sleeping gown…

As they gave in to their hearts, to the songs of love ringing in their souls, the rhythm of their pulsing hearts serenaded them as they slowly, gently made love until the early morning light began to filter through her windows.

And when they woke up after their night of passion, both looked down upon their Soulmate Marks, smiling at each other as they realized that the leaves on the tattoos had come back to life, with flowers that were now in resplendently full bloom.

8-8-8-8-8

_To be continued…_


	6. Linked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soulmate Marks are said to lead one to the only person who will inevitably make them whole, the one true match for their heart and soul. Bulma used to think that it was all a bunch of silly superstition… at least, until she finally found her Soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of Linked, and I am so happy to finish another story! I am super grateful to everyone who has ever liked, commented/reviewed and reblogged this story. Please know that I am inspired by you all, and it is because of you that I continue to write for this lovely fandom.
> 
> Also, I dedicate this chapter to the amazing VEGETApsycho, who recently drew some [gorgeous art](http://vegetapsycho.tumblr.com/post/179545006690/a-continuation-of-that-one-office-shirt-vegeta-i) for this story, and whose talent continues to inspire me and so many other Vegebul content creators. Stay awesome, girl!
> 
> And with that, let’s go! The last chapter of this little Soulmate AU… I hope you all like it!

 

The first week of October greeted Bulma with a sharp ray of sunshine streaming into her room, through the thin slats of the half-drawn blinds.

She stretched languidly, stifling a yawn with a hand, before the implications of the bright sunlight finally registered in her mind.

She shot up in bed with a gasp.

“Shit!” she cursed, hurriedly untangling her legs from the blankets that had snaked around her during the night, nearly falling flat onto her face as she raced out of her bedroom.

They were going to be late!

Then again, being late was kind of her _thing_.

She seemed to always be running late for momentous days.

She vividly remembered how she had also been tardy for what was arguably the most important day of her life, eight years earlier…

**_8-8-Flashback-8-8_ **

“God dammit, Bulma!” Chichi was screaming into her ear through the phone.

“Chi, it’s _fine,”_ she tried to assuage the frazzled woman.

“I know I joked about it before, but I never thought that you would _actually_ be late to your own wedding!”

Bulma cringed. “Yeah, sorry… It is pretty dumb of me, isn’t it?”

“Ya think?!”

Bulma was running to the makeup venue within the small resort that they had rented out for the wedding, where apparently, all of the makeup artists and prenuptial photographers were already all set up, with no bride to photograph.

The moment she burst through the door, breathing hard and wheezing from the effort, the wedding coordinators descended upon her.

Before she had time to blink, she was on a chair, getting her hair pulled at in all possible directions.

“We should have just let Vegeta stay with you in your hotel room overnight,” Chichi was muttering. “I mean, screw superstitions, you being late is worse than anything that could have happened.”

Bulma was trying to look at Chichi through the mirror before her, while the harried makeup artist was slathering her foundation onto her face.

“I already said sorry,” Bulma said. Then, with a wink, continued. “Besides, pretty sure that if you had let Vegeta stay with me, we would be even _later.”_

Chichi grumbled defeatedly, while the lady doing Bulma’s hair gave her a high-five.

8-8-8-8-8

She ran into the adjoining room, looking at the bundle of blankets that were tightly curled up on the spaceship-themed bed.

The sight of the small hands tightly gripping the edge of the blanket made her choke up a little, and she slowed down from her harried state, approaching the bed slowly before laying her hand gently on the head hidden beneath the covers.

“Hey, big boy. Wake up,” she cooed. “You’re gonna be late for school.”

The lump of blankets stirred, and Bulma smiled as the top of his head emerged from the sheets, his sky blue eyes blinking beneath his mess of thick lavender hair.

“Morning, mama,” he greeted.

Bulma smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Morning, Trunks.”

**_8-8-Flashback-8-8_ **

The photos were done, and now Bulma was in the bridal car, the driver speeding just a tiny bit so that they could reach the church on time.

She checked her reflection off the rear view mirror, noting her sky blue hair that was twisted up into a complicated up-do, and the thick makeup that the beautician had, funnily enough, called a ‘natural look’.

The light pink of her lips smiled back at her, her peach cheeks flushed as she glimpsed the church in the near-distance.

She was really doing this.

Bulma was about to marry her Soulmate.

8-8-8-8-8

Trunks was wearing his favorite yellow hoodie, and he climbed excitedly into the vehicle, bouncing in his seat as Bulma started the engine to take him to school.

She adjusted her light cardigan over her black blouse while Trunks buckled in, glancing at the rear view mirror to check on her hair that she had thrown up into a bun.

“Mama, Papa will be home by tonight, right?” he asked, making Bulma’s grin widen.

“Yes baby,” she answered. “And I'm gonna pick him up from the office, so aunt Chichi will take you home with Goten.”

He nodded. “His ship landed two days ago, right?”

“It did. But he and the other astronauts had to say in the office for a while so the doctors can check on them, make sure they are all ok.”

“And they need to get used to gravity again,” he nodded to himself.

“That’s right, smart boy.”

Her seven year-old son grinned, looking straight ahead at the approaching school grounds. “When I grow up, I wanna be a space man, just like Papa.”

Bulma chuckled. “So you’ve told me. Are you sure you don’t wanna be like Mama?”

Trunks cringed, and she burst into laughter, throwing her head back as she idled in front of the school entrance.

“Sorry Mama,” he said. “But going to the moon is a lot cooler than working in a university.”

Bulma shook her head fondly as Trunks leaned in to give her a kiss goodbye before he jumped out of the car, waving to her before he headed in to join his best friend, Goten, who was waiting at the entrance.

She started the car again, driving off to her job at NRRU.

**_8-8-Flashback-8-8_ **

Bulma stood just outside the church doors, waiting for the trill of the bridal march that would signal her entrance.

She could see into the church through one of the large windows, and she stared fondly at the flowers decorating the halls. The blooms were something that her boss, Dr. Gero, had paid for as part of his gift to her and Vegeta for their marriage.

The familiar tune of the bridal march finally began, and with a deep breath, she straightened, taking a step forward as the doors opened.

She began walking towards the altar, and out of the corners of her eyes, she noted the packed church, full of friends and colleagues who were all smiling as they took in her long veil, and the beautiful strapless wedding gown with a long slim skirt that fitted her trim body and rounded hips to perfection.

She clutched her bouquet tightly, the hydrangeas complimenting her light blue hair, contrasting sharply with the red lines of the vines and flowers of her Soulmate Mark that had spread up most of her forearm.

Yet, all these little details were lost on Bulma as she stared straight ahead, fighting back happy tears at the sight of her beloved groom.

Her husband-to-be...

The love of her life…

Her Soulmate…

Vegeta.

8-8-8-8-8

The day went by in a flash, and soon enough, Bulma found herself waving goodbye to Dr. Gero as she ran to her car.

She immediately headed off to the EASA offices that were an hour’s drive away, where her husband would be waiting for her to take him home.

It was standard procedure for the astronauts to stay in the HQ for quarantine and routine medical checks after their missions, and it usually took Vegeta another day or two to reorient himself after landing. Thus, she needed to pick him up, gladly doing so as she was ready to have him back after the mission that he spent in outer space.

She parked in Vegeta’s reserved parking space when she arrived, excitedly running into the main building.

Her heart jumped as soon as she spied his tell-tale dark hair, and unable to help herself, she called out.

“Vegeta!” she greeted, waving at him, and he turned quickly, his dark eyes silently gleaming with happiness as he jogged up to meet her.

Uncaring of how cliché it would look, she launched herself at him with a laugh, barely restraining herself from kissing him as deeply as she wanted, as she knew of how much he hated public displays of affection.

His thick, warm arms wrapping around her again was heaven, and she clutched him tightly as she took a deep breath against the crook of his neck, having desperately missed the scent of him.

She pulled back with a smile, reaching up with a finger to poke his nose with a chuckle. He kept her close with his forehead against hers, smirking at her while she gazed at him.

“Welcome to Earth, space man,” she teased. “Now, you probably don’t have any money for food and rent. But you’re kinda cute, so you could stay at my place.”

He scoffed. “Cute? Woman, I am _hot.”_

“Yes, you are,” Bulma laughed, then, taking his left hand with her right, she pulled him along to take him back home.

**_8-8-Flashback-8-8_ **

Bulma could barely concentrate on the ceremony as her attention was arrested by Vegeta’s dark eyes and small grin.

He was in a tux, something rare, and he looked so _good_ with his thick chest pressing against the front of his black suit, his wild hair combed up to tame the thick dark strands.

The minister was speaking, but she just nodded at everything, giddily piping up to say ‘I do’ when prompted.

Vegeta stared intently at her while he slid her wedding ring onto her finger, and she smiled softly while she slid his onto his larger hand.

And seemingly suddenly, the crowd began to cheer, as the priest loudly proclaimed, “You may now kiss the bride.”

Vegeta reached forward, lifting the veil from her face, and Bulma’s breaths puffed harshly as she watched his lips.

He moved forward, cupping her cheek with his right hand, while his left held gently onto her right wrist, his thumb softly brushing the Soulmate Mark that was pulsing madly on her skin.

8-8-8-8-8

“Papa!” Trunks yelled as soon as they were through the door, and he jumped up into his father’s arms, Vegeta bracing against the couch for the impact.

“Oof! Boy, you’ve gotten heavy,” he said, patting his son’s head fondly while Trunks grinned.

“How was your trip? Did you get any space rocks? Have you still not seen any aliens?”

Bulma laughed as she headed off to the kitchen to pull out the dinner that Chichi had placed in their oven to keep warm for their arrival.

She smiled at the thought of her sweet best friend who had offered to make some food for her on that busy day. She also thought fondly of her childhood friend, Chichi’s husband Goku, their eldest son Gohan, and sweet little Goten.

Gohan was an incredibly smart boy, whom she had helped gain a scholarship to NRRU’s advanced high school program. She could see that he had a bright future, and she was determined to do all that she could to make sure that he would get the best education and care. Unlike her, he would never have to compromise.

Her attention turned back to her own son, Trunks, who was animated at the dining table, and she laughed as Vegeta told him about his spacewalk, about the things he had seen in space, reminding him to work hard at school so that he too could become an astronaut in the future.

“My little genius boy. Obviously, he’s gonna be an astronaut too like his father, isn’t that right?” she teased, to which Vegeta sniffed.

“No son of mine shall simply aspire to be like me, ultimately,” he said. Then, turning to the boy, “Trunks, you must strive to become better than me _and_ your mother someday, am I understood?”

“Yes papa!”

The rest of dinner went off with more laughter and stories, and when it was time for bed, Vegeta helped Trunks get ready while Bulma cleaned up downstairs.

She smiled as she watched Vegeta tuck their son in, regaling him with stories to help him sleep, and as he stroked the boy’s head, Bulma caught a glimpse of his Soulmate Mark, her eyes tracing over the lines that had blossomed into their final pattern on their wedding day…

**_8-8-Flashback-8-8_ **

Vegeta leaned in, and Bulma breathlessly caught his lips with hers, her heart and soul soaring as she thought of how this kiss, pure and sweet, was their first kiss as husband and wife.

She hummed softly against him, eyes closed as she relished the softness of his mouth.

She was so lost in him, that she almost missed the awed gasps that arose alongside with the cheers of their wedding party.

Bulma felt her Soulmate Mark tingle tellingly, and as she and Vegeta pulled away from their kiss, both looked down at their entwined hands, eyes wide as they watched the lines on their marks shimmer.

Hands clutched together, wrists facing them and clearly seen by their happy audience, the lines of vines, flowers and leaves seemed to swirl, before suddenly bursting into color.

On Bulma’s arm, the thick red lines stood out while a blue tint in the exact shade of her hair burst forth into the petals of the blossoms, the leaves glowing a brilliant green.

On Vegeta’s, she smiled as she watched a deep red tint bleed into the blue outlines of his mark’s flowers, and the same green color of the leaves on her mark snuck quickly into the leaves on his.

Both smiled at each other while the crowd cheered, a gleeful understanding passing between them.

The Soulmate Marks had reached their full patterns…

Which meant that their souls knew, that from that day onwards…

Bulma and Vegeta, together, were finally complete.

From then on, they were truly, eternally _linked._

8-8-8-8-8

Vegeta emerged from his shower, grinning widely at Bulma as she lay on their bed in her night gown, looking up at him with eyes bright with happiness.

She held her hands out to him as he climbed in, the soft cloth of his shirt and pajama pants rubbing across the bare skin on her arms and legs.

Slowly, carefully, she reached up to hold his precious face in her hands, slowly stroking the skin on his cheeks while he laid beside her, holding her securely in his arms.

She laid a small kiss on his lips, before she pulled herself closer to him, burying her face in the hard muscles of his warm chest.

“I’ve missed you so much, Vegeta,” she muttered, fondly kissing his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart against her ear.

He simply grunted in response, but while he spoke no words, she felt the love and affirmation in his touch, in the way he curled his fingers into the strands of her hair.

They laid silently for several minutes, just relishing in the feel of being back in each other’s embrace, until she felt his fingers begin to wander down, cupping the curve of her buttocks while his lips gently covered her own.

In no time at all, he had her breathless beneath him, and their hands began to pull languidly at each others clothes, seeking to feel the other intimately after being apart for so long.

“Vegeta,” Bulma gasped as he palmed her sensitive spots, as he laved wet kisses upon her throat. “Are you sure you can- oh!”

“Bulma, it’s been a while,” he smirked up at her as he nipped her sharply, before he teased, “Besides, I need to get some exercise to get my blood flow to readjust to the gravity. Do you not want to help me stay healthy?”

She laughed, tangling her fingers into the thick strands of his hair. “Of course I do. I guess I need to make this _sacrifice_ then, shouldn’t I?”

He grinned, before a more sober look flit over his features, and with his eyes boring into hers, he whispered, “I love you, Bulma.”

Smiling back, she responded… “I love you too. And I always will, with my whole heart and soul.”

With those words, she reached up with her right hand to hold his left, linking their fingers together, the Soulmate Marks that helped them find each other pulsing gently as they nurtured the love between them… for that night, and for the rest of eternity.

8-8-8-8-8

The end.

 

 


End file.
